Sleepless nights and lonely days
by Danya Lionheart
Summary: Oh no, I am not good with summaries... :) This is AD/MM story and my first fic in English. Please Read & Review!


Sleepless nights and lonely days  
  
A/N: This is my first fic in English. Pairing is MM/AD (of course) and rating: PG. Please, read and review!!!! Short and fluffy. And thanks to my beta-reader Maria!  
  
***  
  
Minerva McGonagall rolled over on her bed and looked at the alarm clock on  
  
her bedside table. It showed 2.42 AM.  
  
This wasn't the first night this month when she hadn't gotten any sleep.  
  
She had even asked Snape to give her a potion for this sleeplessness,  
  
but it hadn't helped at all. Snape just had one more reason to  
  
needle her, and listening all day to Snape's torment about her  
  
sleeplessness had just made things worse.  
  
Minerva tried to close her eyes, but thoughts just rolled around in her  
  
head and gave her a headache. So eventually she got up and dressed in her  
  
dressing gown. Then she walked slowly to her window and looked out.  
  
Nobody would believe her if she told them that evening was her  
  
favourite time of the day. At night the castle was so quiet and  
  
empty, it was a good change from the noisy days, when corridors were full  
  
of laughter and chatter. And nights were so beautiful. She looked up to the dark blue night  
  
sky and was astonished once again. The moon shone brightly and lit the whole room with its soft light.  
  
Minerva watched the icy lake, that reflected moonlight on its surface.  
  
Then she turned around and looked about her room. All the things she  
  
saw brought so many memories to her mind. Good memories, and some  
  
bad memories. She looked at one picture on the mantelpiece. It was a  
  
photo of her and her dad. She was pressing a little Golden Snitch in  
  
her fist and showing it proudly to her dad, who smiled at her and squeezed  
  
her shoulder gently. In this photo Minerva was only seven years old.  
  
Then Minerva looked another picture, which wasn't really a picture, but a  
  
cutting from the Daily Prophet. There was picture of a smiling little  
  
Harry Potter and a long article about "the boy who lived". Below  
  
the text was an obituary notice with two names in it: Lily and James  
  
Potter. This memory was still painful, though it had happened  
  
fourteen years ago.  
  
Then she quickly walked to another picture, hoping that it would be  
  
less painful. It wasn't. It was a picture of Albus Dumbledore, smiling  
  
at her and waving a hand. He was one reason why she couldn't sleep  
  
well. In the past few weeks she had noticed that she thought about him  
  
more and more, and every time he spoke, she lost her words and  
  
blushed. In her schooldays she had dreamed about him, like every  
  
other girl her age from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. She  
  
knew one Slytherin that had liked him too, though she would never admit  
  
it. Dumbledore had been her teacher, and after her graduation, a dear  
  
friend and colleague. But she so hoped that he could be something  
  
more. Minerva knew she would never have guts to tell him what she  
  
felt. She couldn't risk their friendship, not after so many years.  
  
She wasn't good at showing her feelings. But she would go mad if she  
  
didn't tell.  
  
Minerva was full of confused feelings and so resorted to the only thing  
  
which knew her deepest fears and dreams. Her diary. Her mother had  
  
told her to write in her diary every time she felt as if she couldn't talk  
  
to anybody. So she took her quill and little green notebook and started.  
  
23.2.2003  
  
Dear Diary  
  
I don't know why I am writing this. I just can't sleep and I am  
  
drowning in my own thoughts. I just watched my old photos and  
  
found that one of Dumbledore. If only he knew what I think  
  
about him.  
  
Would he be angry with me? Would he believe me? What if he would  
  
just laugh at me? I don't know, I can't stand this any longer. I  
  
just realized it yesterday. I love him. Those may be the hardest three  
  
words that I have ever written. And the best words. Those three aren't  
  
enough to tell what I really feel, but they are close enough.  
  
It's so easy to write them down, but it's harder to say them to him. How  
  
can  
  
I ever say them to him, when I can't speak one single word without  
  
stammering and blushing like a fifteen year old  
  
schoolgirl! How I hope that he would feel the same way, but.  
  
Tears rolled down her cheek and she continued to write.  
  
For me it is so hard to tell what I feel. I am lonely and shy, though  
  
nobody would believe it. I think some pupils think that I don't have  
  
any feelings at all. How wrong they are! I love my job, my friends,  
  
my pupils (though they are little trying sometimes), my colleagues  
  
and him. If there is a God or Destiny (I don't really believe in  
  
Destiny, thank you Sybill.) please hear me now and help me.  
  
Minerva  
  
A few lonely tears dropped down to the page and she put the book away and  
  
went to her bed, staring at the wall and ceiling and thinking about him.  
  
***  
  
Someone else couldn't sleep either. Albus Dumbledore was awake in his  
  
room, staring the walls and listening to the silence. He was tired but he  
  
just couldn't sleep when nightmares tormented him. Trying to think of  
  
something happier, he started to think of Minerva McGonagall, the only  
  
woman  
  
in his life he had truly loved. But he was a coward; he wasn't brave  
  
enough to tell her. And even if she would reciprocate his feelings, he  
  
didn't want to give her a husband who would die in a few years. It  
  
wasn't normal that Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of modern  
  
times, was afraid of a woman. But she was so different. So  
  
special. He just must tell her that. He decided he would do it.  
  
Maybe tomorrow. Or tomorrow night. With this thought he fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
In the morning Minerva woke up, yawning. Then she dressed in her usual  
  
clothes and put the diary into her pocket. She didn't want any House  
  
Elves finding it. They were nice little creatures, but a bit too curious  
  
sometimes. She didn't know if they could read, but she didn't want anybody  
  
to read her diary.  
  
Then she stepped out of her chambers, put on that stern Professor  
  
McGonagall expression she knew so well and walked to the Great Hall.  
  
The enchanted ceiling was cloudy. Minerva sat down at her usual place,  
  
next to Headmaster Dumbledore, trying to avoid his look and answering his  
  
polite conversation with only a few words. She felt that familiar "  
  
he-knows-everything-I-think" look on her back and tried think that he  
  
couldn't read thoughts. But  
  
she wasn't sure of that.  
  
She ate slowly, waiting for the others to finish and get up from the  
  
Head Table. To her astonishment, Dumbledore finished at the same time as  
  
she did, and followed her to the corridor. Dumbledore said: "Minerva."  
  
Minerva stopped and turned around, a very timorous look on her face.  
  
Dumbledore hadn't seen her like that before. Then he continued: "I.  
  
I have something to say to you. Maybe you could come to me tonight,  
  
around 7.30? Is that ok?" Minerva didn't know what to say but then she  
  
said: "Ok, I'll come."  
  
Trying to smile a little she turned quickly around and tripped. She  
  
fell down and Dumbledore offered a hand to help her stand. She took  
  
it and said: "Thanks." Dumbledore gave her a worried look. "Is  
  
something wrong, my dear Professor?" "No, no. Everything is ok."  
  
Then she turned again, this time looking at her feet to avoid  
  
another embarrassing situation. But she didn't notice the little green  
  
notebook that had dropped from her pocket.  
  
Dumbledore noticed it, but Minerva had just run away and she didn't  
  
hear his voice, so Dumbledore decided to give her the notebook back later.  
  
He walked to his office and tried to concentrate on his paperwork.  
  
Before long he had to give up. He just couldn't think about work  
  
now, he just thought about her. It wasn't normal for Minerva to be so  
  
silent and scared. Was Minerva McGonagall scared of something? No,  
  
it couldn't be possible. She was the cleverest, most logical and  
  
bravest person he knew. How could she be scared? But he had seen it  
  
himself, and he didn't know what to think, or do. All he could do was  
  
wait until tonight. Then he would have answers.  
  
***  
  
Minerva McGonagall sat in her room, looking out of the window and once  
  
again trying to decide whether to wear her hair loose or in a tight  
  
bun. She decided that she would keep her hair in the bun,  
  
because it was probably just one more boring meeting between the  
  
Hogwarts Headmaster and his Deputy.  
  
But, somehow she didn't believe that. Something in his eyes had said  
  
more. She wanted to go and find out what he wanted to tell her, but, on the  
  
other hand, she didn't know how she could be there. She would be so  
  
near to him, and yet so far. Too far.  
  
At 7.27 Minerva left her room and thought to herself: "He can't  
  
know. He just can't. I will be calm, I won't tell him anything, it  
  
would risk too much. It's just stupid me, stupid me. Who told me to  
  
fall in love with the Headmaster?" But she knew that her heart had  
  
decided so, and she couldn't do anything about it, even if she would  
  
have wanted to.  
  
***  
  
At the same time, Dumbledore was sitting in his office, thinking of  
  
what he would say. But then he remembered Minerva's notebook and  
  
took it from his pocket. Suddenly, it dropped down and he bowed down  
  
to pick it up, when he suddenly looked at the open page in front of him.  
  
Out of the  
  
corner of his eye he saw the word "Dumbledore" on the page, written in  
  
Minerva's handwriting. He knew that what he was going to do was wrong,  
  
but he picked the book up and started read.  
  
After a while, he looked at the book in amazement. If only he had known.  
  
Then he felt shame. It was Minerva's private diary, and HE HAD READ  
  
IT! How could he ever face her again? Then without a warning, he  
  
heard a knock on the door. He decided to tell her exactly what had  
  
happened. She deserved to know. She deserved to be angry with him.  
  
Then he said: "Come in."  
  
The door opened and Minerva entered the room and said: "You wanted to  
  
talk to me." "Yes, I did, and now even more. Please, sit down."  
  
Minerva gave him a surprised look, but sat down. Then Dumbledore  
  
walked over to her and started talking. "I am sorry Minerva. I shouldn't  
  
have done that." When he saw that she didn't understand at all, he  
  
continued: "For a while I have thought about you. A lot. And the  
  
reason why I called you here is that I wanted to tell you what I feel.  
  
But. but then you dropped this." he took the notebook and handed it to  
  
her. "I know that I shouldn't have done it, but I was stupid, and I. I read  
  
it. "  
  
Minerva looked at him with her mouth open and asked: "You.what?"  
  
"I read it. I understand if you hate me now." He didn't dare look  
  
at her, so he stared at his feet and whispered: "I'm sorry." Then he  
  
felt that she had taken his hand and he looked at her. She smiled.  
  
"I am happy that you read it. Otherwise I would never be brave  
  
enough to say this to you: I love you Albus Dumbledore."  
  
With this she leaned forward and touched her lips gently to his.  
  
First he was surprised, but then he kissed her back, with passion  
  
and love. For a while they just kissed each other and told each  
  
other with every move they made: I love you. Then they stopped and  
  
he said: "I love you, Minerva."  
  
Both of them knew that there would be no more lonely days or broken  
  
hearts. There were only two broken people, those whose love had united  
  
and healed.  
  
The End.  
  
***  
  
What do you think? Review, please!!!!! 


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